Sodom and Gainsborough
by Pandapens
Summary: Non magical AU - Remus Lupin is a miserable priest, caught up in a huge scandal. When Sirius Black  old flame and now astrophysicist  walks back into his life after 10 years, he finds himself getting a little more than he bargained for. Rating will go up
1. Part 1a

Word count for this part: 3600

_EDIT: YOU ASTERISK AND PLUS SIGN DISALLOWING BASTARDS, YOU'RE MAKING IT AN ABSOLUTE CUNT FOR ME TO BREAK UP MY SECTIONS *FIST SHAKE*_

**1.**

_**BYE BYE BLACKBIRD! WALBURGA BLACK DEAD AT 62!**_

**By – ****RITA SKEETER**

_A farewell to Walburga Black, the Darling of New Wave Cinema._

We have all in our lives, seen at least one film starring Walburga Black. The former stunning screen siren (of whom this reporter is a big fan) left us last night after dying of a sudden heart attack, shocking the nation. And this morning, no doubt, tears will be shed around the nation.

Walburga Black, despite her various mental health and substance abuse issues, was surely one of the greatest actresses Britain has ever known.

_Rita's exclusive find!_

Very few people know Walburga had a troubled start to life. Her father, Pollux Black (son of acclaimed playwright Cygnus Black) was just thirteen at the time of her birth, her mother fifteen. The two were wed quickly but Walburga's birth (and the birth of her brothers, Alphard Black, novelist, and Cygnus Black, actor and father of Bellatrix Lestrange!) was hidden from the public. She was raised in secret, by a governess and few knew of her existence till she broke onto the screen, against her Grandfather's wishes, at age twenty.

_The most talented actress of her generation_

She began her career in 1945, starring in the harrowingly topical post-war drama _Children of the Blitz_. A controversial that was deemed too soon by many a critic (Of course, this reporter had always recognised it for the great work it was). She quickly became known for her mane of black hair and hypnotic beauty; she was often referred to as "England's answer to Katherine Hepburn" (Walburga was much sexier, in my humble opinion!) . It was in her early films, where she made a speciality of playing the tortured heroine, that she made her name. She would marry the director of the 1948 Oscar-magnet, _The Grey Lady, _Orion Black (who was also her cousin... oh er!) a dashing talent, whose star never quite rose to the heights of his wife's. Notoriously difficult to work with, he was known to have a foul temper and an obsessive attention to detail.

His behaviour on the set of his 1950 film (an adaption of Agatha Christie's short story, _The Labours of Hercules_) would leave a blot on his career, from which he would never truly recover.

Meanwhile, Walburga's star continued to swell. Her work in the fifties largely consisted of historical dramas, though she bucked this trend when she starred in the 1955 adaption of Alphard Black's (helping out her little brother, how sweet!) debut novel, kitchen sink drama:_ Cobalt Coloured Wedding Dress. _She played, arguably, her most iconic character, Saphia Morrow, the neglected wife of Thomas Morrow (Abraxas Malfoy) a character lorded as one of the most complex to come out of 20th century literature. The film and novel tracked Saphia's decent into alcoholism and eventual suicide and the blossoming love affair between Thomas and a student of his. (Of course, the novel and film were far more subtle than my brief summary... but it was SO obvious.)  
It was deemed one of her most controversial works to date, due to its rampant homosexual subtext. It was also the first work of legendary Director (and Killer Cult leader!) Tom Riddle Jr.

It was due to her Oscar winning performance in _Cobalt Coloured Wedding Dress_ and the final seven years of her career, when she would work solely with Riddle that would truly solidify her status as a screen legend.

_The Blackbird _(1957),_ Look Back at the Liar _(1960),_ Hell is Honey _(1960),_ Live Your Life _(1961)and _The_ _Stairs to the Scaffold _(1962)_  
_These were black, racy, gritty, films that were controversial in the extreme! Walburga often showed off some of her best assets (and we're not just talking about her acting chops!) in these films. _Blackbird _a tastefully handled film was thought to be the darkest of these, with its traumatic depiction of domestic violence. In _Look Back At the Liar _Walburga bore all during a scandalous stripping scene which sent audiences wild! (Noted as the first glimpse of a woman's pubic hair in an English language film!) And in the notoriously banned_ Hell is Honey,_ Walburga plays a sexually frustrated nun plagued with erotic visions of her imaginary lovers. In _Live Your Life _Walburga, shockingly for the time, took a black lover! And in _The Stairs to the Scaffold... _well there was no sex (Disappointingly!) but the film had a severe pop at the capital punishment system.

In November of 1959, Walburga's first son, Sirius (Or, Back Alley Black, as I like to call him.) was born. Her penultimate film, _Live Your Life_, was filmed during her pregnancy and Riddle went to great lengths to disguise her baby bump, often using a body double.

She prioritised her career over her new baby, and her husband had been (reportedly!) so outraged during the filming of _The Stairs to the Scaffold_, that she'd never worked again. Obviously, that had just been a rumour, probably as fictional as the one about Tom Riddle maybe being Sirius' father... But I won't bring up any of that nastiness.

Anyway, Walburga then disappeared completely from the spotlight.

Her legacy lives on in niece Bellatrix Lestrange, a schoolyard chum of mine, who was all too happy to step into her shoes, starring in her first film in 1963 at the tender age of twelve! And what a star she's turned into!

And, though Sirius may have turned out to be something of anti climax (Pretentious hermit, acting underground in Europe? How dull!) we mustn't forget the budding writing career of her second son, Regulus! Who has his first novel due out in November, how fabulous!

As you'd expect, Walburga's funeral promises to be a star studded affair! And I'll be right on the front lines, writing my report!

Until then, stay fabulous darlings!

Remember to send a thought to the Black family! RIP Wally!

* * *

"Hullo... That Sirius?"

"Yeah? Who's this? How'd you get my number?"

"Calm down, got it through James... It's Regulus, by the way."

"To what do I owe this pleasure?"

"Mother died."

"Oh."

"I got all the property, most of the money... You got a considerable chunk of it though."

"She just...? I can't believe..."

"I know. It was very sudden."

"No I mean... I just can't believe she left me anything! How much is a chunk?"

There was a heavy, disdainful sigh from Regulus' end of the phone.

"Ten mil."

He hung up.

* * *

"Do you think that kind of behaviour is acceptable?"

"No, of course not. Don't be ridiculous."

"Then why did you work so hard to keep this covered up?"

"I- I didn't make any effort to cover it up, I just didn't want this story everywhere."

"Father Lupin, why are you protecting a paedophile?"

"You're putting words in my mouth. I did it for the boys' sakes, the community's sake, not for the sake of that Monster."

"Father Lupin, is it true you were aware of the abuse before-"

"No. No that is_ not_ true. An outright lie."

"Where was God when your, and I quote, _close friend, mentor and colleague, _Father-"

"That's enough. This is not a theological debate. This is nothing, what gives you the right to break down my door and-"

He blinked as a camera flashed right in his face. He slammed his door.

* * *

Sirius grabbed the nearest man and jammed his tongue down his throat. He could smell sweat, sex, man, all mixed with the sharp tang of alcohol and the smell of cigarette smoke. A drink was thrust into his hand, he took it without question, without even twisting his neck to see who'd handed him it. He tipped it into his mouth, mostly down his t-shirt and handed the empty glass to someone else. He grabbed another man, a man he'd looked over a the bar earlier, and pulled him closer, pushing their bodies together. He licked a stripe up the man's neck. They were both hard, from the dancing, the club the other men; even in the darkness, they exchanged a heated look. Sirius found himself being dragged by the wrist to the toilets. More men in there, men together, shameless, not even in a cubicle, down right pornographic. Sirius' man banged him through the door of an empty cubicle and threw him down on the closed lid of the toilet. He locked the door, fell to his knees and yanked Sirius' jeans open.

The mouth humming round his cock, the music pounding in his ears, the alcohol burning in his veins, flooding and fogging his senses, intensifying, dulling, bringing the walls in closer and spinning around him, the beautiful bed waiting for him at his flat, the shower, his dream job, more inheritance money than he knew what to do with, his life, his new life, his perfect life. Things couldn't be more perfect right now.

Remus pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. His own face stared out at him from the front page, eyes wide, like a deer in the headlights_. _He crumpled the paper in his hands. Why his parish? He groaned and filled the kettle, slamming it listlessly on the lit stove.

He hadn't even wanted to think about the possibility. For goodness' sake, Remus had known the man almost his entire life. First as a primary school teacher; second, as a mentor and a friend, when he'd joined the priesthood. He didn't even want to half contemplate some of the strange things he'd seen.

But he thought of the boys. The poor boys. It had been Remus' call to social services regarding one of his alter boys, Thomas, that had started this whole debacle. Thomas had broken down while speaking to the social worker and after that had been exposed, more boys had come forward. He decided to break the story once Remus had asked his parishioners, for the sake of the children, to "just keep the whole awful situation quiet, please?" Unbeknownst to him, one of the local journalists had had other plans.

He now had national newspapers banging on his door all day long, shouting questions, twisting his words and jamming cameras in his face.

The questions were the worst. They always seemed to feel it necessary to drag God in. They used Him as tool to mock Remus; a stick they could use to prod him with, then watch him squirm. Remus could never respond under the pressure, could only panic. He questioned himself. His vocation. For the first time in his life, he found himself questioning his faith.

After the journalists had left, he'd buried his nose in his bible, searching for answers. None came. His eyes slid out of focus time and time again, and he became distracted by his own blasphemous thoughts. After a while, he had fallen asleep.

He'd had the dream again. Last night. Every time he had the dream, it felt more real. His surroundings, not just in his head, corporeal, more like flashes of memory that hit him once he woke. Not the vague kind of memory one has of a dream, but a true memory. He remembered a transformation, painful, like something tearing through him, tearing him in half. Then power. The smell of damp earth, pollen, sickly sweet in the summer night air, flooding his nostrils. A sharp tang of something, rising, hot and thick into the air. The feel of the earth: damp grass, rock, mud, bark, beneath his feet.

He'd woken up to find his living room a wreck, his bible thrown carelessly on the floor, his notes scattered everywhere, his furniture tipped up. Several ornaments and light bulbs were smashed; even a nail had fallen from the top of his crucifix, causing it to hang upside down.

He'd found himself, naked, his clothes torn and abandoned in a pile. He was filthy and sore all over.

Upon standing, he'd discovered the piece of bark stuck in the soul of his left foot. He proceeded to yowl, and hop into the bathroom. He then spent a grand total of twenty three minutes, hopping around searching for a pair of tweezers (which needed to be thoroughly cleaned and disinfected before they did any actual tweezing).

He had to talk to someone about this. If not a professional, at least someone he trusted. Because every time it happened it seemed less and less like a dream. And more frequently he could swear he smelt, tasted blood. And it was all so vivid. Especially the transformation. Pain. The exhilaration, energy and power that followed it. Remus was beginning to worry himself.

He was either going fucking bonkers, or there was something very strange going on. Though, in Remus' opinion, the fact he was even willing to consider the latter gave more evidence to the former.

After cleaning himself and cleaning the rectory, he'd found the paper on his doorstep, seen his own face and decided tea was very, very necessary.

Whilst slurping his tea, his thoughts were not filled with musings on religion or ideas for sermons, as they were on good mornings, but with thoughts of the Dream. He decided, speaking aloud to himself,

"Change the bloody subject already... Ugh."

He had a funeral today. Walburga Black, the actress who had died, very suddenly, last week of a heart attack. Remus had been friends with her eldest son, Sirius, when he was younger. It had been almost ten years since Remus had last seen him.

Though he'd seen an awful lot of him in the papers. Everyone knew the Blacks. They were all writers, actors, directors, caught up in one scandal after another, affairs, drugged and drunken disgraces, murder, ties with criminals: they were hardly out of the papers.

But Walburga was a good woman, Remus had always thought. She had been very pious and proper and had always donated to the church. Sirius had never thought much of her. But Sirius had always been the Black sheep of that family.

He took up with a very unsavoury crowd toward the end of secondary school and ended up in a long, drawn out scandal that was painful for Remus to watch, even if he only saw it through the papers. Goodness knows how awful it must have all been for Sirius.

Last Remus had heard, he'd become an actor of some sort. He hadn't been in the tabloids since he'd finished boarding school.

* * *

Sirius coughed something up. Too chunky to be phlegm, too solid to be sick. He decided not to think about it too much and flushed it down the sink. He'd woken up in his new bed, which was so comfortable it was_ staggering_ and was pleased to find that whatever he'd dragged home last night had had the courtesy to fuck off before Sirius had to face him.

Thanks to Dear old Walburga's decidedly unexpected generosity, he could actually afford this flat now. Maybe something better.

It was nice being back in his old stomping ground and even nicer knowing he would be working in the newest, most technologically advanced, down right_ sexiest _observatory in the UK. Much better than the ratty old thing he was working in in Edinburgh, which was a neglected, cheap, little thing. Its tendency toward tantrums and technical glitches had gained it the nickname Marvin among the staff. It never went so far as to fall to bits or moaned about never having asked to be built, but God it had been a temperamental little bitch of a telescope.

The new observatory he was going to work at was, in fact, the largest astronomical telescope in the world designed specifically to operate in the submillimetre regime (between the far-infrared and the microwave regions of the electromagnetic spectrum). He remembered the look on James' face when he'd told him that: a mix of confusion and outrage at such shameless use of scientific jargon.

He exited the bathroom, unable to stop himself from considering that thing he coughed up, and was about to sit on his gorgeous, lovely new, new, new leather sofa when the phone rang.

"Hello?" He said, with a yawn.

"Jesus, someone over did it last night! You sound like shit!" James said, sniggering at him.

"Aww, I love you too, James, you fucking dickhead." Sirius murmured.

"Good morning star shine, the earth says hello!" James trilled. "I know you've probably gotten yourself in a bit of a tizzy over attending Mummy Dearest's funeral, but-" James began. Sirius almost dropped the phone.

"Funeral?" He said, suddenly panicked. Surely he hadn't been invited? Surely the family embarrassment hadn't been asked to attend the funeral of Walburga Black: National Treasure?

"What, you didn't think they were just going to stick her in the bin or something, did you?" James snorted. Sirius rolled his eyes. "I heard that eye roll, mister."

"No you daft prick, obviously not. I just assumed I wasn't invited." He said frankly. James paused, then sucked a breath in sharply.

"Did Regulus not tell you?" he asked guiltily.

"No?"

"Oh... That's probably because he told me to tell you the details and I forgot." James said sheepishly. James had always had a memory like a sieve, but since his drinking had gotten worse, it had given out completely. Sirius had even considered hiring a new PR agent.

Not that he needed one so much, nowadays. The tabloids had basically given up on him ever doing anything interesting again.

"Ugh, Christ almighty, James!" He moaned, "Speaking of Regulus, thanks for giving him my number, deeply appreciated." Sirius spat sarcastically.

"Aww, you love him really." James sung.

"Do I shite. What time's this funeral, then? Where is it? I probably won't be able to make it. I imagine the _Darling of New Wave Cinema_, would demand a burial at West Minster Abbey." Sirius sniffed.

That was what _The Prophet _had called her. Less schmaltzy than _The Times'_ "Goodbye England's Rose", he supposed.

None of the articles had been as disgusting as Rita Skeeter, for _The Daily Prophet._

"Erm... Sorry to tell you mate," James began hesitantly, "But she's went for the local church. With how close that swanky, new flat is, she's getting buried practically in your back garden." Sirius sighed heavily. There was no way he could avoid it now.

He'd have to go and be disapproved of for three hours, while Regulus glowered at him, Bellatrix sneered at him, Narcissa and Lucius threw things at him and Snape (who would _undoubtedly _be invited) discussed ancient rumours of Sirius' degenerate lifestyle with the local Priests. James had said something about one of them being arrested and put away for kiddie-fiddling. Though Sirius had no idea if this was true or not, he didn't watch the news and he didn't read papers. He'd only known what the papers had said about his Mother because he'd strolled into the newsagents and flipped straight to the obituaries.

He knew for certain this funeral was going to be absolutely crawling with paparazzi.

"What a lovely mental image." He muttered sourly.

"Funeral starts in about ten minutes by the way." James told him, with a hint of amusement.

"Fantastic, don't even have time to shower, never mind shave."

"Oh, assuming you were out on the lash last night-"

"Bingo."

"You're going to look fabulous." James said, his words thoroughly laden with sarcasm.

"Ugh... I'd better go then." Sirius mumbled.

"Enjoy!" James yelped. Sirius gagged a bit. He'd best have a glass of water or two before he left.

"I might be sick. Literally though, I've really overdone it."

"That's fine, as long as you don't get any in or on the casket."

* * *

She'd wanted a proper, catholic burial. The short walk with the coffin from the Black's house to the church should have only taken about five minutes but the streets had been so packed with paparazzi and Mrs. Black's fans that it had taken almost a quarter of an hour. Remus felt sorry for her coffin bearers. Especially poor Regulus, who'd been quite attached to his mother and was forced to fight back his tears to save face in front of the cameras.

Security had been hired by Lucius Malfoy to keep people out of the church, for the mass and the absolution and the local police had managed to clear away most of the crowd by the time they left the church for the graveside ceremony.

There were a lot of tears. Remus winced a bit, when he swore he saw Bellatrix Lestrange, whom he understood there was Oscar buzz around this year, turn to a spot where the police had warned them were a lot of photographers. She then proceeded to push the elaborate black veil she was wearing away from her face, and stare mournfully into the distance with tears streaming down her face. Remus hadn't seen the woman look even remotely grieved before now.

He dismissed that, as his own dislike of Mrs. Lestrange colouring his view of her behaviour and carried on with the ceremony.

He could see Regulus shaking silently, his head in his hands. He was stood next to Severus Snape, who couldn't have looked more uncomfortable if he'd tried. Snape gave him a very stiff pat on the back, that either went completely unnoticed or completely unacknowledged.

He scanned the crowd, consciously looking for Sirius as he spoke. His eyes were caught by the Malfoy family, their blonde hair very noticeable against the crowd, all clad in black. Mr. Malfoy looked more annoyed by the presence of photographers than anything, continually looking in their direction and rolling his eyes. He kept checking his watch, as if he had somewhere better to be. Mrs. Malfoy had been crying steadily and quietly throughout the ceremony, still tightly holding her little boy, Draco, who'd drifted off in the church earlier.

He asked the crowd to silently say the Lord's Prayer, as Remus sprinkled the coffin with holy water.

He checked the crowd again for Sirius, but failed to spot him. Remus spoke again.

"Grant this mercy, O Lord, we beseech Thee, to Thy servant departed, that she may not receive in punishment the requital of her deeds who in desire did keep Thy will, and as the true faith here united her to the company of the faithful, so may Thy mercy unite her above to the choirs of angels. Through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen."

The crowd mumbled along with him, the "Amen" much clearer and louder. He could hear Regulus sobbing now. Loudly, he completed the ceremony,

"May her soul and the souls of all the faithful departed through the mercy of God rest in peace."


	2. Part 1b

Sirius couldn't see a thing. He was stuck right at the back of the crowd and could barely hear the priest. They must have gotten a new one in since he was last here. The priest Sirius had grown up with had been a very old, very Irish man, who used to forget to put his teeth in and was completely unintelligible. The new priest had a nice voice, clear, deep and lilting, with a nice gravelly quality to it. The kind of voice he would normally describe as very sexy, had it not belonged to a priest. Specifically the priest at his own mother's funeral... He grumbled a little, under his breath.

"You think they'd let me watch my own mother get buried." He said it, then immediately regretted it. To his good fortune, no one turned around. He tried standing on his tip toes, but to no avail. All he managed to see was the top of the priest's head, and the man had a very dull haircut. There was the call for the silent round of the Lord's Prayer, which Sirius did not partake in, deciding instead to stare at his shoes and wonder if anyone will notice that they aren't real leather. He smiled a little, when he realised he'd probably never have to buy crappy, plastic shoes again. No more shit suits either. And he'd finally be able to get rid of that manky trench coat. No longer would people shout "Oi, Columbo rang, he wants his coat back" when he walked down the street on a rainy day.

Suddenly people were half mumbling a prayer around him and he snapped back to the present. Knowing that the ceremony was about to end Sirius decided that he should probably speak to Regulus before he buggered off. Oh God... What if someone took his photo? If he was spotted, his peace would be shattered, his identity would be dug up and... Maybe they'd be so disappointed he was just a scientist, they'd leave him alone...

What if Bellatrix saw him or Narcissa or Snape? Bound to make a comment on his cheap suit or his job. He didn't understand what these people had against science. It might not be as glamorous as poncing around on stage for a living, but it was fascinating and valuable and he was helping to unravel the mysteries of the universe!

Stupid, bloody, fucking showbiz family.

The crowd dispersed, spreading out around graveyard, some heading to their cars or beginning to walk up the street, presumably to the family home. Regulus was easy to spot, largely because he'd had the same hair cut since 1969 but mostly because he'd be the only person in the family that cared enough to be shaking with sobs. He'd always been their Mother's greatest defender.

Snape hovered awkwardly next to him, looking mildly irritated and embarrassed on Regulus' behalf.

Sirius shuffled toward his brother, head down and shoulders hunched, hoping that no one would come and speak to him. He could see Bellatrix, in her foul, ostentatious dress and veil eyeing him up with a smirk, Rodolphus frowning and hooking his arm around Bella's waist. She was at least three inches taller than him with the ridiculous heels she was wearing. They kept sinking into the grass, until she dragged Rodolphus onto the path, where she gave Narcissa a long hug and Draco a loud, showy kiss on the cheek. All for the cameras.

He made sure as much hair was covering his face, glad he'd decided against the hair cut last week.

Ignoring Snape completely, he mumbled a greeting to his brother, who moved his hand away from over his eyes and mumbled one back. God, Regulus looked like shit; face bright red, eyes swollen and shadowed. Looked like he'd been up all night crying.

He'd changed so much since Sirius had last seen him. He was so much taller. Not as tall as Sirius, but a tall man none the less. He was still thin, but no longer looked weedy; his finely cut suit was clearly covering muscle now, rather than the pure skin and bone he used to be. He had five o'clock shadow and his jaw was wider and his cheek bones were broader. Sirius blinked when he realised Regulus was the spitting image of their Father.

Sirius cleared his throat.

Regulus had always been sensitive. Very sensitive. It took him about three weeks to stop randomly bursting into tears after Margot, their Nanny, had taken him to see Watership Down for his birthday. Sirius shuffled under Regulus tearful stare and then again under the harsh glare Snape was giving him. He sighed to himself, looked over his shoulder, then threw his arms around his brother, expecting to be shoved away.

To his surprise, Regulus not only hugged him back, but buried his face in Sirius' shoulder and choked out a loud sob.

"Alright Regulus... Alright, you're going to be alright, calm down." He soothed. Snape rolled his eyes at Sirius; Sirius was not quite sure why he did. But he was never sure with Snape, anyway. Regulus had hold of him tightly, mumbling things that sounded like apologies into Sirius' shoulder.

"I know. It's alright. Come on Regulus, we'll get you back to the house." Regulus broke off the hug and laughed nervously.

"Sorry about your suit." He said. Sirius shrugged.

"Jacket only cost me a tenner. Borrowed the trousers from James a few years ago and never gave them back." Sirius said, smiling reassuringly.

"Wondered why they were stupidly short on you."

"Tall people trousers are too expen-" Someone tapped Sirius on the shoulder. He prepared an expression of disdain, expecting to turn around and see Malfoy or Bella. Instead, there stood the Priest. A tall man, with thick, tidy hair, light brown in colour. He had a friendly face, handsome in a scholarly sort of way. Though his individual features were nice, particularly the shy lopsided smile he wore, his looks suffered considerably from how run down he obviously was. He was pale and pinched and a bit shabby looking.

The priest's face, all of a sudden, clicked in his memory. It was like he'd found the right combination for a safe, that had been locked for over ten years, the cogs turning, the door swinging open and memories flooding out.

"Fuck me sideways." He said, aghast, "Remus Lupin."

He was a priest. Sirius knew he'd always been religious but... A priest? Remus, Remus Lupin, of all people, a priest?

"Erm... Hello." He said, smiling wider and shaking his head, "Sorry to... interrupt-"

"It's fine." Sirius said brightly, grinning. Remus looked a bit taken aback by his good cheer and enthusiasm.

"Ah, erm. I just wanted to. Say hello. Er..." Remus stammered. Sirius pulled him into a tight hug, laughing, half from shock and nerves, and half in genuine delight at seeing him.

"You're coming back to the house aren't you?" he said, releasing a now blushing Remus.

"Well I-"

"Of course you are, Father." Regulus piped up, nasally, "Mother was terribly fond of you, she'd want you there." Something else Sirius was shocked by. His mother had been _fond_ of someone. His mother had been _fond_ of Remus. Remus the Priest.

"Erm. Well of course then." Remus replied shyly, giving Regulus a sad smile.

"Brilliant. We can catch up a bit." Sirius continued brightly, "Once I'm done sorting things with..." he looked over his shoulder at Regulus "Yeah."

"Yeah. Alright. Okay. See you soon then?" Remus said, already beginning to shuffle back in the direction of the church.

"See you!" Sirius waved enthusiastically. He turned back to Regulus, who snorted and rolled his eyes.

"Let's go home, you daft git."

* * *

Regulus and Sirius left the guests down stairs. The help had put on a good spread and were serving drinks, which were disappearing at an alarming rate. They went into Regulus' bedroom, which was completely the room of an adult. A double bed, cream paint, book shelves and a tidy writing desk.

Sirius' room, which lay just down the hall, was frozen in time. It was covered in posters of girls and bands and motor bikes and behind them lay space man wallpaper. His duvet cover was a map of the night sky, bought for him by his sour old grandfather. He was a callous man, and despite his dislike of science, had been obsessed with astronomy, an obsession he passed on to his oldest Grandson.

Regulus perched on the edge of his bed, silently.

Sirius examined his book shelf, having forgotten how avid a reader his little brother had been. He smiled, when in amongst all the classic literature, he saw Regulus' dog eared collection of Roald Dahl books. On the book shelf, sat a small statue of the Virgin Mary and a rosary. A large crucifix hung on the wall above the writing desk.

Regulus cleared his throat, calling Sirius' attention.

"I'm sorry I never... That I didn't-" He began hesitantly. Sirius cut him off.

"It's okay, I understand. You. Couldn't." He mumbled. He joined Regulus on the bed, "Not with Father... With both of them, being the way they were." He said darkly. Regulus frowned at him.

"You shouldn't talk about her like that." He growled, his voice hoarse.

"Regulus, I know she's dead but... Come on." Sirius said, lightly nudging his brother. Regulus sighed.

"No, I mean obviously, when we were kids, she was..." He trailed off.

"An insane bitch." Sirius finished for him. Regulus frowned again, but found he couldn't really argue.

"... Yes. But... When Dad died. She sort of... had an epiphany." He said, unable to rid his voice of a stammer and a wobble. Sirius rolled his eyes.

"Whoop-dee-do for her." Regulus gave him an intense look, a look that begged him to be serious.

"She... Tried to kill herself, Sirius. Because of how guilty she felt about us. Thought everyone would just be better off if she was gone." Regulus' voice crack, tears had begun to run down his face again. Sirius felt like the bottom had dropped out of his stomach.

"But I caught her... Swallowing a bottle of her medication. And I called the doctor round and he pumped her stomach. Then she said that, from then on, she was going to be a good person. Started going to mass everyday. She got professional help as well and once they gave her new medication and all her mood swings stopped and... She was..." Regulus let out a high pitched sob, almost a laugh,

"Delightful. She was so sweet Sirius, but she couldn't bring herself to contact you. She didn't want you to reject her. She thought it would be easier for both of you if you just carried on hating her." His words had built up momentum and seemed to be pouring out of him at an alarming rate, the same rate that tears were pouring from his eyes.

Sirius couldn't help but feel uncomfortable. He'd always hated seeing his brother upset, but there was nothing worse than seeing a grown man cry. He put a comforting arm around Regulus' narrow shoulders. He felt a lump forming in his own throat, which caused his own words to become uneven.

"I didn't know that. If she'd... If she was different I wouldn't have. I mean, I'd have at least given her a chance." He mumbled. Regulus snorted.

"Would you really though? Really?" Sirius didn't reply. They both knew the answer, which hung, unspoken, between them, creating a long silence. Regulus kept sniffing and gulping air.

"She... It. She had a heart attack." He spoke again, suddenly "On the Monday. And she was bed ridden and half comatose and delirious... She kept asking for you. She said... She wanted you to know she was sorry." Regulus' voice was all over the place, he kept having to stop, to breathe in sharply, or give little, shuddering sobs,

"She loved you..." He said, with a sincerity that made Sirius' heart clench. "And that, she... No matter what, she... she always did."

Sirius felt his bottom lip wobble and his eyes sting. A painful lump formed in his throat.

"Look what you've done to me, you daft... Fucking hell." Sirius sighed, mock annoyed. Regulus laughed softly. "I'm not going to cry." He said aloud to himself. Realisation hit him like a train. He was on the verge of forgiving his mother.

He remembered his childhood. He remembered his childhood well. And it was shit. It was absolutely shit and that woman didn't deserve his forgiveness. She barely deserved his hatred.

The lump disappeared from his throat and he was filled, once again by anger. That comforting, familiar fury, that came so easily to him.

"I don't care if she had a sudden epiphany." He said, frankly. He felt Regulus stiffen. "An _epiphany_ doesn't change that she treated us like shit for most of our lives."

"I know. But." Regulus wiped his eyes and shook his head. "This is why she didn't want to speak to you, you know." He snarled. "You're so pig headed. I know she was nasty and I know she treated us terribly but she, she did love us. She really tried to make it up to me." he flew into anger, flirted with his pent up sobs, then returned again to anger, "This is our mother we're talking about here, you callous bastard. Our dead mother. Who just left you ten million pounds." Sirius was shocked by how poisonous Regulus' voice was. A harsh, sharp reminder that he was no longer the squeaky, sensitive fourteen year old Sirius had last seen, but an adult.

"That doesn't... change. I-" Sirius stuttered. Regulus shook his arm away and stood, shoulders back, at his full height. When had Regulus become so tall?

"Look, I'm leaving you alone now, I won't repeat this to any one, as far as everyone will think, we're reconciled. Just don't even dare think about coming to speak to me until you sort your head out." He said, obviously being very careful not to raise his voice.

"I'm not going to forgive her." Sirius said forebodingly. Regulus pursed his lips tightly.

"It's the Christian thing to do." He spat, "Honour thy father and thy mother." Regulus was glaring demonically at him now; Sirius almost flinched when he saw how similar Regulus had become to their father. Especially with that face on.

Sirius matched the glare. Annoyed that Regulus had dragged religion in. He was hoping Regulus might have finally stopped believing in the religion their father had hammered into them as a child.

"I've got a fucking doctorate in astrophysics. That's a doctorate in, _God doesn't fucking exist_, Regulus." Regulus' eyes narrowed. "That line doesn't work on me any more." Sirius said defiantly. His brother's face softened, suddenly, oddly.

"You got a doctorate?" he enquired, raising his eyebrows.

"Yes." Sirius folded his arms. Regulus, apparently, didn't know quite how to react to that.

"Any way," Regulus continued, "It's not just the Christian thing to do, it's the _right _thing to do." He said sternly. Sirius broke eye contact with him. Looking away from him. Past him.

"I don't care." The words were so cold, Sirius felt like he might have ice dripping from his tongue. Regulus gritted his teeth, spun on his heel and left the room, slamming the door behind him.

* * *

Remus arrived at the Black's home in his simple black, clerical clothing, having doffed his cassock at the rectory.

He wasn't quite sure how he felt about meeting Sirius again after all these years. After the summer of 1976, when Sirius left the village for boarding school again, but this time, never came back. Remus wrote letter upon letter, but never received one back.

That winter would be the winter that Sirius was caught up in his huge scandal.

Remus didn't like to think about that though. He entered the Black's house, greeted very quickly by Mrs. Malfoy, now free of her son, who thanked him for the beautiful ceremony.

Remus had been shocked by how kind the Black family had suddenly become when he was appointed priest of their local parish. Remus was so glad he'd gotten to work in his home town. He had always loved the church. It was huge, absolutely dominating the town. It was a tall, gothic looking thing, which had been renovated many times over the centuries.

He loved the stain glass windows that depicted the death of various saints in gruesome detail. On sunny days, they would cause the church to be flooded in brilliant, wonderfully coloured light.

He hadn't realised, lost in his thoughts that Narcissa was still gushing over the ceremony.

"I'm glad you were so... touched by it." He said warmly.

"Honestly Father Lupin, you read beautifully." She told him. Remus felt a little uncomfortable, and changed the subject.

"I hear you were just cast in a new drama series, Mrs. Malfoy?" he said, sounding interested.

"Oh, call me Narcissa, please. It's just a mini series that Lucius is producing. Apparently it's was written by a BAFTA winning screen writer, so not an opportunity one could pass up and still be considered sane." She said smoothly, "If it doesn't gain critical acclaim, at least what I'm being paid should easily fund our new house." She glanced over at Bellatrix, who was speaking to an elderly man and laughing loudly. "Obviously I'm not even getting a fraction of what she's making." Narcissa said, a little wistfully. "She thinks of herself as a screen legend now." She snorted, "She's jealous of Andy. Bella read an article about her a few weeks ago that had called her a cult icon and she flew into such a huff."

"What's Andromeda doing now?" Remus asked. He knew the other Black sister had gone to Hollywood, but nothing more.

"She's directing in an animation studio, would you believe. She's made three films since she went over, all of which have been lorded as the best thing to happen to animation since Walt Disney. The latest one won an Oscar." Narcissa rolled her eyes. "And I'll be lucky if my stupid mini-series gets three stars in a TV Guide." She drawled disdainfully.

"Now, now Narcissa, I greatly enjoy your work." Remus told her. Truth be told, all he'd seen of her back catalogue was the _ITV _production of the _Taming of the Shrew_. She'd played Bianca, and had starred alongside Bellatrix, who'd completely out shone her as Katherina.

"Mmm. That's what they all say." She chuckled softly. "I'm a dancer, you know. But my bad feet sort of scuppered that career for me, and I had to do something or else I'd drive myself mad with boredom." She yawned, and smiled at him, lazily "Well, I must go and check on little Draco, if you excuse me." she swayed off elegantly, leaving Remus with the impression she'd been highly unimpressed by their, decidedly one sided, conversation.

Remus blinked and wandered into the living room, searching for anyone he knew well enough to speak to. There were far too many people to get comfortable though, so he resigned to stand in the hall, hovering by the stairs, hoping to see Sirius. He took a glass of red wine when it was offered. Regulus soon came down the stairs, poor fellow looking not much better than he had at the ceremony. He gave Remus a smile and a brief thanks, before disappearing into the throng of people.

Not a moment later, Sirius came down the stairs too, looking a little upset and annoyed.

He hadn't changed much at all since they were boys. His clothes were cheaper now, and he seemed rather rougher around the edges than he had been. Apart from that, the most major change to his appearance had been the addition of a pair of fairly large, black, horn rimmed glasses, that looked slightly too large for Sirius' fine, aristocratic features.

He greeted Remus with a familiar grin, and inclined his head in a way that Remus knew meant he should come up the stairs. He'd been to the Black house a few times when they children, and remembered exactly the path to take to Sirius' room, where he appeared to be following Sirius.

Sirius did, indeed, lead Remus to his own room. He banged through the door, and flopped on the large bed, with the constellation duvet cover.

Remus took in the smell of the room, purely Sirius, and was thrown back to the first time they'd met.


	3. part 2a

**2.**

_1971_

Remus wished he had swings in his own garden. He loved the swings in the park, but there were almost always dogs there. He was a bit frightened of dogs.

Apart from dog walkers, there was hardly any one in the park most days, apart from himself, there weren't many boys his age round his area. Sometimes he saw ladies with little babies, which he didn't mind as they never took the swings away. Remus thought they might feel sorry for him because he was all alone, based on the pitying looks they often shot in his direction. All of his school friends lived in the near by city, where Remus lived in a town on the outskirts of the county. Next year, he'd had to get the bus all by himself into school; Mam usually got the bus into the city with him, because she had worked in the main shopping centre. But he had to go in alone now because Mam had gotten a new job at the local chemist. Apparently, seeing him to school at his age wasn't worth wasting the bus fare on.

Remus had loved Saint Mark's, but was a little worried about going to Saint Bernard's. Most of his friends were going to the comprehensive, rather than the grammar school. Mam told him not to fret and that he'd make new friends easily.

Remus hadn't realised his swing had come to a stop while he was pondering new schools, so he stretched, pressed his feet on the ground and pushed off.

He hummed a song he'd heard on the radio that morning and listened to the rhythmic creak of the swing-set. He watched a man walk by with a collection of small yappy dogs on leashes and hoped he wouldn't set them loose. Yappy dogs were the worst, in Remus' opinion. There was a lady with a toddler in the baby park, which sat a few yards away from the swings. She was sat, contentedly watching her little girl clamber all over the small climbing frame.

A girl with a little, black puppy had appeared on the field without Remus noticing. The girl had long, dark hair and was dressed quite boyishly; she was rolling around on the grass with the dog. Remus, now and then, heard the dog yelp or heard the girl giggle. She pushed herself off the ground, still laughing and walked onto the path with the puppy on a leash. The puppy was pulling on the lead, dragging the girl forward as he struggled, and failed, to run. Remus tensed and let the swing come to a stop. He saw the girl bend down and unclip the lead and as the puppy bounded toward him, he froze, panicked.

The puppy was very small and very furry; he might have called it cute, had it not jumped up at him and start to nip at Remus' bare shins. He regretted wearing shorts; the puppy's teeth were like little needles. He tried to move his legs away, but he didn't want the girl to think he was trying to kick her dog, or anything horrible like that...

"Shoo! Bad dog!" he hissed, wriggling, but the puppy paid no attention and started to yap, jumping up Remus' legs and scratching them with his little claws.

"Padfoot down!" shouted the girl, running over from across the field, brandishing the leash, "Padfoot, get the fuck down!" the dog ignored her still. He heard the girl mutter something darkly under her breath. "I'm really sorry!" She yelled, now quite close, "Padfoot stop it, you little bastard!"

Remus whimpered quietly, and begun to shake his leg as slowly as he could. The girl arrived, panting. She dropped to her knees and yanked the dog from Remus' legs, causing him to yowl, when the puppy dug his tiny claws into Remus' leg.

She held onto the wriggling puppy, growling as she clipped his leash back on. She unceremoniously dropped the dog, and stood, blowing her long fringe from her eyes.

"He gets a little bit over excited, sometimes." She said, in an, unquestionably, deep voice. She was _extremely_ posh, "Sorry about that, old chap." Remus examined her face. She had these lovely, arresting, grey eyes, pretty, full lips and a neat, straight nose that was turned up in a rather aristocratic manner. She had high, narrowed cheek bones and she was flushed, healthily, from running. She was very pale, and had a very, very strong jaw and chin, for a girl. Actually, from the way she was dressed and the way she stood, Remus was not quite certain this was girl any more.

"What's your name?" Remus asked,

"Sirius. Sirius Black." That was definitely a boy's name. Remus mentally kicked himself for accidently thinking a _boy_ had nice eyes and nice lips. Bollocks. He'd have to remember that one for confession. It was the hair. The stupid long hair had confused him. What was a boy doing walking around with girly hair like that, anyway?

Sirius stuck his hand out for Remus to shake. Remus took it, eyeing the yapping dog below him nervously.

"Remus Lupin." He said. Sirius grinned. He was missing one of his front teeth; Remus must have been staring at the gap, either that or Sirius was particularly conscious of it.

"It's wizard isn't it?" Sirius said, wiggling his tongue in it, "I got it pulled out at the dentist yesterday. I can squirt water out of it for yards!"

"Can you?" Remus asked, "When I lost my front teeth I already had big teeth growing behind them."

"Just like a shark!" Sirius grinned. Remus smiled back, nervously. The dog let out a loud bark and Remus jumped. "You aren't scared of dogs are you?"

"A bit."

"But Padfoot's only a baby." Sirius frowned, Remus worried he'd offended the boy.

"It's nothing personal... I just... He still has teeth and claws." Remus said indignantly.

"They're only little!" Sirius laughed, at least it was good natured, rather than mocking. Remus huffed.

"But look what he did to my legs!" He stretched the aforementioned limbs out in front of Sirius for emphasis.

"Oh nuts..." Sirius' eyes widened. "Don't tell any one, or I'll get into trouble. So will Padfoot, Mother said if he bites anyone else she'll have him put down! I keep telling her he's just a baby and he doesn't mean it, but-"

"I wasn't going to tell on you, calm down. They're just hurting a bit."

"Oh." Sirius' brow furrowed in concern, "Nanny says that when you get bitten by an animal, you should disinfect it straight away." His tone was very authoritative.

"I'm alright." Remus told him, shyly. He wasn't used to so much attention from strangers.

"Come on, my dog did it, so I might as well patch you up. We'll go to my house and I'll give you plasters." He seemed sure of his words, and Remus' need for disinfection, even though none of the bites had actually broken his skin, Remus examined his legs properly. Only a few of the puppy's scratches had broken the skin properly and they were hardly worth putting plasters on. He didn't want to cause any trouble for Sirius' parents either.

"Plasters? But I'm not really bleeding." Sirius shrugged.

"So? You'll want some anyway, they're smashing! They've got spaceships on them!" Sirius told him enthusiastically, not quite concealing a note of panic.

Then again, Remus supposed he didn't have many friends and he might as well seize the opportunity to make one while he had it; also, spaceship plasters! Remus had been silent for a while and had failed to notice the look of worry on Sirius' face.

"I do tell him not to bite, honestly I do!" Sirius told him, urgently.

"I believe you!"

"He just needs better training. He's brand new. Father bought him for my little brother and I when we got home from school this summer. As treat." Sirius' babbling slowed. "Mother wasn't happy though." He said thoughtfully.

"Does she not like dogs?" Remus asked. Sirius frowned. He began to walk, pulling the, now calm, puppy along with him; he beckoned Remus to follow, with an incline of his head. Remus hopped off the swing, and trotted next to Sirius. He deliberately chose to walk on the opposite side of Sirius to the puppy.

"Not at all." Sirius sighed.

"Is she scared of them?"

"Oh no. She just hates animals." Sirius paused. "And people."

* * *

"I remember the first time I was here." Remus said, leaning back against the door. Sirius watched his chest rise and fall slowly, as if he was taking in the scent of the room. Sirius felt his stomach clench. "Padfoot savaged me. So you dragged me back to your house and put spaceship plasters on my knees for me."

"He didn't savage you. He just... cuddled you with his teeth. And caressed you gently with his claws." Sirius grinned, his tone easy, mild; it did not betray the nervous feeling that was beginning to grow within him.

"I missed your humour." Remus said dryly. Sirius laughed softly. He patted the bed next to him, and Remus came and sat with him.

There was a short silence, Sirius cleared his throat and broke it.

"So. You're a priest?" Sirius squeaked, his voice betraying his complete shock and confusion at Remus' career choice. Remus raised an eyebrow. "You?"

"Yes, me." Remus was sharp with him. "No need to seem so shocked. This wasn't the career path I originally intended to follow but ... people change. I have always loved the Lord. Above all else." To Sirius, this sounded more like excuse than reason. Remus paused, and gave him a heavy look, "You knew that." A heavy look for heavier words.

"Yes... I suppose I did." Sirius shook his head. "I couldn't not." The atmosphere was considerably more uncomfortable now. It had passed from the awkwardness of meeting someone after an abrupt end to your relationship, to the awkwardness of having offended a close friend. "Do you know what I do for a living?" Sirius said, quickly changing the subject.

"You're an actor or something, aren't you?" Remus shrugged slightly. Sirius shook his head.

"Just a rumour. Total bollocks."

"I thought you were going to act. You were always terribly good at it." Remus said, with a smile. Sirius had never thought he was much good. And even if he had been, he just didn't like it enough. There was no challenge in it; not for him, anyway.

"Mother wanted me to act." He said, unable to help a slight curling of his lip.

He remembered the hours of drama in school and drama clubs after school and being forced to read through old scripts with his mother over and over and over again.

"I just wanted to fuck around with lasers and telescopes." Sirius smiled "I'm an astrophysicist, by the way." Remus looked neither surprised nor impressed, though he was, at least, curious.

"And what does that entail?" he asked.

"I fuck around with lasers and telescopes." Sirius shrugged, "I'm living the dream." Remus snorted a laugh.

"They just finished building a new observatory not too far from here, I believe."

"I know." Sirius smirked. "I work there."

"You are?" Remus' eyes went wide, "Are you living-?"

"In the new block of flats."

"Oh. That's... Right across the street from the church, isn't it?" Remus blanched at that. Sirius was a little taken aback by his friend's less than enthusiastic reaction.

"You'll have to stop round one day soon. You've got no excuse not to, I'm so close." Sirius could hear the nervous note in his own voice. He hoped his smile didn't look too false.

Remus nodded tentatively.

"I'll certainly try to get round." He said, rather limply. Sirius elbowed him playfully.

"That'll be good. We can have a cuppa and catch up properly."

"Yes. We should wait until your mother isn't... having her funeral."

"Rather." Sirius kept smiling and ignored Remus' hint. "So how've you been?"

"Rather happy, for the most part. Up until recently." Remus mumbled.

"What's up?" Sirius asked. "That's not my fault, I hope, is it?" Remus shook his head.

"Of course not. Haven't you seen the papers?"

"Erm... I steal James' and do the crosswords. And I checked the obituaries in them this week." Sirius wasn't very up on current affairs. He read New Scientist, which was relevant for him, which was all that mattered, really.

"Oh." Remus swallowed. He was twiddling his thumbs and looking down at his shoes. "There was... some... trouble. With one of our other priests."

"Oh!" Sirius suddenly remembered what James had been telling him earlier. It hadn't clicked that that would affect Remus, until now. "Fuck... James told me about it." He said sympathetically. Remus sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

"The media have been dogging me for days. I'm on the front of most of the regional papers and the Star. I'm on page two of the Sun. Made it to page three of the Times and the Guardian."

"Well, I bet you made a lovely page three girl." Said Sirius, attempting to lighten the tone. Remus didn't look particularly amused. Sirius tried not to imagine Remus as a page three model... topless... sexy pose... lacy underwear...

He knocked the thoughts from his head. Remus was very much forbidden fruit now.

"Very funny." Remus grumbled. "I'm half expecting them to turn up with torches and pitch forks."

"Why are crucifying you over it? It's not like you've corrupted any innocent children." Sirius paused, narrowing his eyes. "You haven't, have you?"

"Goodness no!" Remus squeaked. Perhaps missing the fact Sirius was joking. Perhaps not finding it funny, anyway. "I suggested we keep quiet. Some local journo felt the need to splash the story all over the papers. Accused me _and_ the church of being corrupt, it's all been blown rather far out of proportion."

"Fuck. I'm sorry to hear that."

"Hardly your fault... I'll just grin and bear it."

"They're not coming to your house, are they?"

"Almost everyday. They'll be asking me about your poor Mother now, no doubt."

"You could stop at mine for a few days if you want?" Sirius blurted. Remus looked a bit taken aback, but not as uncomfortable as he did earlier. "I mean, if you don't want to, it's fine. I could understand you not wanting to be seen with someone like me... given the current state of your reputation."

"Someone like-?" Remus frowned with what appeared to be confusion, his mouth then forming and o with realisation. "Oh... er..." He fumbled with his words. "I'd never decline an invitation because of. That. I mean, I know the church is against that sort of thing, personally I... Erm."

"Why are you a priest, Remus?" Sirius cut him off, leaned closer to him, deliberately invading his personal space. "I had always sensed some rather self loathing tendencies in you, but I never thought they ran this deeply." Sirius' hand crept across the bed and settled over Remus'. The touch was platonic enough, that Remus did not snatch his hand away immediately, like Sirius had suspected he might. He allowed Sirius' palm to settle of the back of his hand for a moment, before gently slipping it away.

"I'm not self loathing." Remus told him. It was said in a gently warning tone. "Like any other priest, I control my thoughts and if I fail to control them, I simply do not act upon them."

"Repression isn't good for you. No matter what your preferences are." Sirius said; he hoped he spoke as gently as Remus just had.

"I'm not repressed, I'm celibate." Remus snapped, Sirius jumped, not expecting it at all. "I don't like this modern society. We're all Sex Sex Sex, constantly. Despite what the bloody media says, it's still a sin. It's not good for you." Sirius wondered if he was about to go off on a rant, when he suddenly slowed and spoke softly again. "Pointless sex is bad for your soul, Sirius."

"My _soul _is just fine." Sirius spat. "Thanks for your sudden concern."

"My concern isn't sudden. I've always cared very deeply for you." Remus remained calm, a little stern. "Perhaps not now, they way I had. But often, I thought of you and wondered how you were. For a long time, not a day went by when I didn't worry about you." Sirius gritted his teeth, a question he'd been asking himself for almost ten years spilled out of his lips, bitter and toxic.

"Well if you were so fucking concerned, why didn't you write back to me?" Sirius glared at him, his heart was pounding with a rediscovered rage. Remus opened his mouth to reply, finding himself interrupted by Snape, who burst into the room without so much as a knock.

"Black, your brother requests you be present downstairs. With the guests. This is your mother's funeral, after all." Snape drawled, sounding irritated and a little bored.

"That's _Doctor_ Black to you, Snivellus." Sirius huffed. Snape rolled his eyes.

"Such maturity."

"Nah, you can sod off Snape. Regulus wants me, he can find me himself."

"Perhaps you should go downstairs, Sirius." Remus sighed. "For Regulus, if for no one else."

"Fucking hell, not you as well." Sirius grumbled, he stood, about to shove past Snape when Remus added:

"I'll have to decline your kind offer of a place to hide, Sirius. But I'll certainly accept that invitation of tea." His tone promised explanation. His smile was kind and pleaded forgiveness. Sirius smiled back, a little strained, but he couldn't help not to.

"How touching." Snape said sarcastically.

"Shut it." Sirius snapped. He turned to Remus again. "Anytime next Sunday evening? I'm busy the rest of the week. New job and flat and all."

"Sounds good to me."


	4. Part 2b

"I thought you so loved hearing me whinge about drama club!" Sirius said sarcastically. "Do you still take sugar with your tea?"

"Yes. Just the one now though." Remus called. The spoon clinked against the inside of the china tea cup as he stirred. Trust James to buy him most feminine fucking tea set he could have possibly found. As if it wasn't bad enough to own a _tea set_ in the first place, all the cups – the saucers and the fucking tea pot – were pink and flowery. He refused to use it. It was just unfortunate that all his mugs were still packed away. He supposed they were rather... pretty. They'd do.

"Good. I always said taking four sugars would rot your teeth eventually."

"It did rot my teeth. I've got about nine fillings."

"Nine?" Sirius picked up both cups and walked into the living room. He placed his tea on the small coffee table.

"I had a sweet tooth as a child and my mother didn't bully me into brushing my teeth every five minutes. It was bound to happen."

"I suppose that's one of the few things I had to thank my mother for..." He handed Remus his tea and sat next to him on the sofa. "Were it not for her obsession with looking good for the cameras, I'd have ended up with teeth like a dilapidated, yellowing fence."

"Thank you, Sirius." Remus said, resting the tea cup on his thigh, and keeping his fingers looped through the handle. He had lovely hands. Long and thin, elegant looking. "This is a really nice flat, by the way." He said.

His voice was still as lovely and lilting as it was at the funeral. It could probably make the foulest, filthiest words sound lyrical and sweet. His mind then began to fabricate filthy words in Remus' voice. He pinched himself, lightly, on the thigh and gave Remus a slightly strained smile. Remus' eyes were bright, innocent... Entirely platonic. Sirius coughed.

"Er, I'm not settled yet. It'll look less... empty once I've had time to make a mess." Sirius said, with a smile. Remus looked around the room again, he looked impressed.

"I rather like it. Very modern. The rectory is very cluttered... Due more to its size than anything - terribly old fashioned as well- I do try to keep it tidy."

"Oh I doubt that. I know what you constitute as tidy, Lupin. I remember what your bedroom used to look like. You just push the rubbish to the sides." Sirius grinned at him. Remus lifted his tea to his mouth and took a sip. Sirius watched his bottom lip press to the side of the cup, while his top lip brushed the rim. He had nice lips. Pink and pillowy.

"People change, Sirius." He said softly. His kind sounding words stung Sirius, just a little. He ripped his eyes from Remus' mouth.

"Yeah... I suppose." Sirius mumbled. He decided to change the subject. "You still hang round with your old friends?"

"Goodness, no." Remus shook his head. "I haven't seen them in years. Andrew moved to London when he was eighteen, got a job selling houses. And Karen and Johnny got married."

"You only gave that five minutes." Said Sirius, surprised. Remus pursed his lips.

"I did indeed. They had a daughter, I do believe, but they got divorced after a few months."

"So you were right, in the end?" Sirius laughed nervously. Remus quirked an eyebrow and took another sip of his tea. Sirius forgot Catholics weren't big on divorce... Bollocks.

"I suppose." He sighed. "Whatever happened to James and Peter?" he asked, lightly. Too lightly for the answer the question was due. Sirius took a deep breath and braced himself to tell _that_ story.

"Oh. It's erm..." He fumbled his words. "It all went to shit, really." Remus' eyebrows furrowed in concern.

"What happened?" he asked, he moved his cup from his thigh to the coffee table, leaning forward and turning his head to face Sirius. Sirius found him self slightly intimidated by what was, clearly, Remus' undivided attention. He always had been a good listener.

"Um. Do you remember hearing about Tom Riddle?" Sirius asked, tentatively. Remus shook his head.

"No?"

"He was a director in the sixties... He liked working with... with my family, mostly. He was head of... bloody stupid name the tabloids gave it, The Killer Cult of Salisbury." Remus' eyes slid shut, as if he knew what Sirius was about to tell him.

"Oh, goodness yes, of course."

"It was all my fucking fault." Sirius mumbled. "Riddle decided... Erm, well James was working as a prosecutor at the time and he'd just put away a big criminal circuit. And Riddle and his cult were like... they were obsessed with creating chaos. And they decided that, well this is just what the police thought, that James had done too much to prevent chaos? And that his child was like... Going to be Riddle's ultimate adversary... Something odd like that, anyway. They didn't understand what they did to Harry." Remus gave a confused look and opened his mouth to ask who-

"My Godson." Sirius smiled a little. He loved Harry. "James and Lily's little boy. He was only one at the time." Sirius felt a lump forming in his throat at that. He cleared it.

"Erm, but Peter, little cunt, made documentaries," Sirius caught himself growling and evened his tone. "He'd always been a massive fan of Riddle's films- obsessed by them – and he was just so fucking desperate to know why he just stopped making them." Sirius sighed heavily and dropped his face into his palms, sick at himself. He'd only been doing a friend a favour. He let one hand fall limply into his lap, resting his forehead on the other.

"So, I said to him, since my family knew Riddle, I could probably set up for Peter to do some filming with him. Obviously, he practically came in his pants at the thought. And that was that sorted. He went down to Riddle's Salisbury manor and filmed him for a few months.

The doc went down a storm but Peter wasn't quite right after filming. He'd disappear for weeks on end then come back all... funny. I should have known something was up. I mean, granted I couldn't know Riddle had a fucking cult or anything, but I should have worked out there was _something_ dodgy going on.

Any way, James and Lily had this little holiday home in Cumbria... You know how much money James' family had, it was a lovely little cottage, hardly anyone knew where it was, so neither of them could be bothered by their work... they were just... Lily was a Doctor. And things were so busy for both of them... I told them they should take Harry and go away for the weekend." Sirius took in a great shuddering breath. He jumped, shocked, when he felt Remus' palm clasp around his own. He smiled at Sirius, warm and reassuring, sending a shiver up his spine.

"Peter told Riddle where the cottage was." He continued, his voice venomous. "Drove him there, the police reckoned." He laughed bitterly. "Tried to pin it on me. I spent three days in custody." Remus gave his hand a gentle squeeze. "He... Stabbed James. Three times in the stomach. Left him to die on the doorstep then went upstairs for Lily and Harry. He caught James off guard but Lily was prepared. She fought him." Sirius fought the urge to gag at the memory, the image burned so clearly into the back of his mind, it took him almost three years to stop seeing it every time he closed his eyes.

"She looked like a..." Sirius rubbed his palm over his face, searching for the words to describe Lily's body. "Have you ever watched a fish being gutted? I..." Sirius shook his head. And gave up trying to describe the scene he'd stumbled upon. He'd thought James had been bad.

"Because they were there for an extra day, and I was living in Glasgow at the time, only a two hour drive. So I thought I might as well check in on them..." he felt tears burning the back of his eyes, his voice tight. "Sorry..." He mumbled. "It's a fucking miracle James survived the night. An absolute fucking miracle. Lily never had a chance."

"What about the baby?" asked Remus, looking stricken in his sympathy.

"Riddle carved a lightning bolt into his head and left. He was just hungry and frightened. Found him sitting next to Lily. Covered in her blood. Pulling her hair." Sirius' throat was getting tighter and tighter. His voice weaker and weaker.

"Is he alright now? Is James alright?"

"Harry is good. Doesn't remember a thing. He likes football and reading. Not that James would know... He leaves him with Lily's sister most of the time." Sirius rolled his eyes. Thankful that his disapproval of James could replace the memories he just dredged up.

"James... is not so good. He left his job, works in PR now. Drinks too much and drags strange women home, so it's probably better Harry lives with Petunia most of the time." Sirius clicked his tongue and sat back on the sofa. He relaxed his neck, his head flopping sideward to face Remus. Remus still had hold of his hand. Remus had warm hands.

"Harry hates it there. I've offered to let him come and live with me while James... Just to give him a chance to get back on his feet. But he says Harry needs to be around a proper family." Sirius frowned. "I really should have asked him sober, but James' exact words were 'he can't live with you, don't you think it'll fuck him up if you're there with other blokes all the time. No offense mate, but I don't want him turning out like you.' Wanker."

"So you're... Definitely, completely _that _way inclined then?" Remus asked, cautiously. Sirius smirked, feeling oddly drained.

"You of all people should know that, Remus." Remus shook his head and blushed, yanking his hand away. Sirius exhaled noisily as he stood up, patting Remus on the thigh. "Tell you what, I'm going to go and break out my whisky, if that's alright with you... I think I need it."

"Fine with me." Remus nodded and crossed his legs, linking his fingers and primly setting them on his knee.

Sirius pulled his whisky from one of his kitchen cupboards (took him a minute to remember which one he'd put it in) and pulled one glass down from another, pausing before he took a second.

"Do you want any?"

"I... I'd better not." He mumbled.

"You sure?" Sirius asked, taking the second glass from the cupboard anyway. "You might as well. If you don't like whisky, I've got wine... I might have vodka in here somewhere as well."

"... Whisky will be fine." Said Remus, defeated.

"Excellent choice, Sir," Said Sirius. "Only the finest stuff in this flat, this is the best whisky Scotland has to offer." Sirius unscrewed the bottle, and poured a rather generous helping of the amber coloured liquid into both glasses.

"I have to say, I prefer Irish."

"Heathen." Sirius shook his head. "Do you take ice?" he asked.

"Nope."

"Good, because I don't have any." Sirius took a glass in each hand and brought them over to the sofa. "Something more cheerful, I think." He said, setting both glasses down on the coffee table, Remus picking his up and beginning to nurse it instantly. "How's dear old Moira doing?"

"Mam's alright." Remus nodded and took rather a large sip of his whisky, "She got married again in '81, told her she shouldn't dwell on Dad forever."

"That's nice. Any kids?" Sirius asked, knocking his drink back in a few gulps. Remus gave him an understanding smile. Sirius regretted not bringing the bottle.

"Nope. She can't. She had a hysterectomy not too long after I was born." Remus took another large sip of his drink.

"Bit young for that, wasn't she?" Sirius said. "Sod it, I'm getting the bottle, just keep talking."

"Alright. But, yes, it was very unusual." Sirius strode across the room and grabbed the bottle from the cupboard, "It's a shame really. She was really happy when I told her I wanted to be a priest, but I think she was a bit gutted when she realised she probably wasn't going to get any grandchildren out of me." Sirius sat down and refilled his glass.

"She has Keith's Grandchildren though. They're not hers but she loves them just the same. Spoils the little buggers rotten." Sirius smiled, and looked down at his drink. Feeling the last one hit him, rather suddenly, rather like a particularly dizzying punch, he decided to take this one a bit slower.

"She still living round here?" Sirius asked, flopping back into his lovely, squashy sofa.

"Surrey." Remus shook his head. "I try get down before Christmases and Easters."

"Aah." Sirius took a sip of his drink, "Remus... I really hope you don't take this the wrong way-"

"Oh dear." Remus mumbled. He finished his drink in one gulp.

"But why did you become a priest?" Sirius looked at Remus, a wearied expression appearing on his face. "I mean, when we last spoke, you were going to be a psychologist, weren't you?"

Sirius wasn't sure if it was the alcohol - or just the alcohol allowing him to think like this - but Remus was looking more and more appealing by the minute. He'd grown into himself, beautifully. Handsome in his own way, the heat and the alcohol making his long, slim neck and his cheeks glow prettily in the soft light of Sirius' flat. He swallowed and ran a hand through his hair.

"Yes... I was... I suppose I changed my mind." Remus shrugged and refilled his glass. Sirius couldn't help but think his hands looked fucking amazing wrapped around the neck of the whisky bottle.

"Oh. Is that it?" Sirius glared and clicked his tongue. "Alright, if you're going to give me a fucking copout answer like that after I spilled my guts to you, fine." He took a sip of his drink. It was smoky, almost woody, and burnt his throat pleasantly on swallowing.

"Oh hush." Remus shook his head, in that same longsuffering way he always had.

"Just tell me." He looked at Sirius with tired eyes that flickered with fear.

"... I don't want to."

"Christ... alright. I'll ask you an easier question." Sirius sneered, sourly. "Why didn't you write me back?" Remus gave a thoughtful look and sighed.

"I wrote you letter, upon letter, upon letter, Sirius." He took a drink, his eyes sliding shut, his tone strange. Bitter. Regretful. "... As much as I hate to... I half suspect my mother was intercepting them."

"What?"

"... She had suspicions. She never voiced them properly but... She had her suspicions, I could tell." Remus gave him a sad, heavy look.

"Oh." Sirius blinked. "I just... I just thought you'd gone off me." Remus broke eye contact and stared, blankly into his drink.

"I thought the same." Remus' lips were pressed together tightly. "Evidently, you did go off me, though."

"If I'd have gotten a fucking letter back, I'd never have done it." Sirius spat. "After what happened, I fucking wished I hadn't." He sighed.

"... I know. I realise that now." Remus closed his eyes. He sounded fucking miserable.

"It was a nightmare." Sirius groaned at the memory, "Press wouldn't leave me alone... Family weren't speaking to me because of Orion and his fucking _religious_ _values._" Sirius scoffed, angrily, his voice rising in volume.

"You'd think I'd fucking killed someone or something! Much worse things I could have done than being caught coked up, in an alley, with my hands down some bloke's trousers!" Remus flinched. Sirius had no idea why, it was all over the fucking papers, there's no way he couldn't have known what Sirius had been doing.

"I was set to go to RADA. They made me do my A-levels a year early, and then I was supposed to go off to study a discipline I couldn't fucking stand." He scowled. "It was all to fucking much... PR agent told the papers I went abroad to study. Then made up this thing about touring the independent theatre scene on the continent." He gave Remus a pointed look. "That's bollocks. I had a total nervous breakdown about a week before I was due to go off to RADA. Spent about eight months in a nice, secluded mental hospital."

Remus gave him a guilty look.

"... Fuck."

"Yep." Sirius took a drink. It had been a rather pleasant few months, in his opinion.

"Then what happened?" Remus asked, as if Sirius' life had been an episode of a favourite television programme he'd missed.

"I told RADA to stuff it. Changed my last name, went to Glasgow and did physics. Then I shut myself in my flat studied my arse off day and night, till, at twenty five, I emerged with a PhD." He clinked his glass limply against Remus'. "A PhD and... no social life." He snorted. The whisky had gone to his head awfully quickly.

"Good about the doctorate though."

"Oh aye. It picked back up again though. Work mates and a couple of boyfriends, but I can't hang on to anyone longer than a few months." He sighed, his voice dripping with a strange contentment.

"Why's that?" Remus asked, a blank expression on his face, rather than the one of, at least, mild disgust Sirius had expected.

"... Aren't you going to lecture me about my sinful lifestyle?" He questioned, more curious than defiant. Remus rolled his eyes, dramatically.

"No, Sirius. No, I'm bloody not." Remus narrowed his eyes and downed the last of his whisky, flopping flaccidly back against the sofa. "I'm a priest, that doesn't mean I'm a bigoted arsehole."

"It kind of does though, mate." Sirius reached over and patted his thigh.

"I'm not." He huffed. "I think God loves everyone." Sirius left his hand on Remus' thigh

"But you think I'm a sinner."

"I think..." Remus appeared to consider his answer carefully. "There's nothing wrong with love... But lust... Lust is where the sin lies." He said sagely.

"I think there's something wrong with people who feel guilty about having a shag when they want one." Sirius squeezed Remus' thigh, rubbing his thumb slowly over the soft fabric of his trousers.

"Sirius..." Remus' eyes shut tight.

"Why won't you just tell me why you're a priest?" Sirius purred, Remus' eyes tightened again.

"Because!" His hands were balled up into fists.

"Was it something to do with... me?" Sirius asked, hesitantly. His entire face was contorted now.

"No. Yes. Fuck."

"Just tell me."

"I can't." Sirius set his glass down on the table, and then took off his glasses. He moved closer to Remus. Putting a palm against his cheek, he pushed Remus' face till he could only look at Sirius. He held Remus' face in his hands and rested their foreheads together.

"... I never went off you, you know." He whispered. "Ten years. I spent ten years waiting for a letter... Waiting for nothing. I thought I'd get over it eventually. I thought I'd gotten over it... But, Remus, here you are." He brushed his thumbs across Remus' glowing cheeks, their tips, just skimming his eyelashes. Remus' eyes fluttered open, looking pained, his brow furrowed. "And look at you."

"Sirius... Please-"

Stop. Go. Do. Don't. In this moment, Sirius didn't care what Remus wanted.


End file.
